Duct Rat
by LibraMoon
Summary: He was C-Sec, and she... was just a Duct Rat. Yet, the strangest unions can be born in places no one thinks to look. AU: No Reapers. TeenFemShepxGarrus. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**An: It got stuck in my head and would not LEAVE.**

**I own nothing, Rated M for later chapters.**

OoOoOo

Garrus did not like a lot of things about the Citadel. That much was obvious by the way his mandible narrowed, and his eyes twitched when he descended into the more disreputable parts on his patrol. However, he tried his best to be the good Turian her was supposed to be. He kept his head down, but his mind alert. He listened and thought before he acted. His service record had been impeccable upon joining the ranks of C-SEC, one or two possible blemishes had been corrected upon further evaluation by the Turian Hierarchy.

He wasn't even supposed to go out without a partner, but 'budget-cuts' according to the latest Asari projections needed to be implemented and because crime was so 'low' on the Citadel they could do with fewer officers on rotation. Garrus thought it was a load of crap. The only reason crime was 'low' was because there had been more of them to crack down on the dirty scum and bring them to justice. This cut back would only allow the cesspool parts of the Citadel to breed uncontrollably.

He rounded the corner, heading to the last warehouse on his route. He was ready just to call it a night, grab a little alcohol and unwind over some calibrations with his latest gun. There hadn't been a good spar in weeks, and he was feeling that itch under his plates. A tale-tell sign that he was getting stressed. His work wasn't exactly the easiest to deal with, and his mandibles tightened on his face at the thought of next week's rotation.

A muffled sound caught his attention. Garrus slowly drew his weapon, moving cautiously forward. His omni-tool provided the standard override all C-Sec were equipped with for vendor stores. The door opened silently, to the dimness of a back storeroom for one of the local booths. It was a few clicks away from his last checkpoint. Garrus clenched his sharp teeth, and moved slowly.

A short exchange of words, heated but too far away to understand. He adjusted his visor for slightly better night-vision in one eye. He caught sight of two males? One male, one female? It was hard to tell. He inched behind a closer crate, marked with dextro labels.

That reminded him; he needed to drop by the store on the way home. He was running low on a few things in his pantry.

A cry of pain, and a low growl drew his attention back to the two aggressors. It was then he noticed their armor and the markings on said armor.

It just had to be mercs. Garrus held an extreme dislike for the guns for hire that stooped to every level of seedy wickedness possible... for the right price of course. Damn bastards had no morals. He quelled a hiss of outrage that they were even on the Citadel.

They were trying to force a figure in the shadows into some sort of deal or position that wasn't wanted. He guessed that by the way the Merc's head snapped backward as if someone had dealt them a sudden blow. Garrus's talons flew over his omni-tool screen, signaling for back-up and cursing budget cuts that resulted in him being without his partner tonight. It was supposed to be a routine patrol night for Spirits' sake!

His translator dinged to convert their words, they froze momentarily and he nearly hissed at his lack of planning. Then after a few tense moments of silence they returned to threats and menacing calls. Leering that transcended a species barrier. Whoever the victim was, they were trying to terrify them, and Garrus was concerned it was working. He crept along the corridor and crouched behind some crates, watching as the Merc's gripped a figure he couldn't quite make out in the dimness.

He took aim at the head of the one holding the civilian. "C-Sec!" His dual harmonic voice snapped out like a whip of authority. "Drop your weapons and unhand the civilian now!"

The roar caused the Mercs to jump. The pair whirled, the one threw the shadowed figure to the ground quickly, while the other fired in rapid succession.

Garrus put a bullet through his head, right between his eyes, watching as the green blood splurted all over the wall. Salarian, he concluded quickly and ducked behind the crates once more.

"You'll pay for that you cuttlebone!"

Cuttlebone… that meant the last criminal was human. It was there standard insult for Turians. Garrus didn't personally understand how it was an insult, but it was the principal of the thing and he twitched his mandibles in irritation. A grenade landed at his feet.

"Oh… shit," he growled and sprung his body tightly before launching himself away. He landed on his side, sliding as the grenade exploded all around him. Ever the focused marksman, he fell with his gun already pointed toward the bastard that had just tried to blow him sky-high.

Three bullets lodged themselves in the Human's torso, neck, and finally his head. He fell like the dead weight he was, the last thing he ever saw was the viciously smug look of a 'cuttlebone'.

Carefully, he pulled himself from up off the floor checking to make sure he hadn't caught any shrapnel in an unprotected part of his body. Or if he had broken a bone with the concussive force of the blast, he was better off to find that out now, incase more mercs were hiding in the wings.

He cocked his head to the side and listened closely. Nothing was evident but silence. '_Well, that's good news' _he thought somberly. His mandibles fluttered with relief that he was alright, and he checked on the ETA of his backup… somewhere in the Zakara ward still apparently.

Well, if that didn't just make a Turian feel all kinds of _special._

He glanced around, and started to check the bodies for some evidence of what they were doing here. Unfortunately, there was nothing that would help him build a case for harsher security on the Citadel. Of course, because that would be a good thing and tonight was all about things going wrong.

With the exception of him living, he had to give that part a little credit he supposed.

He became aware slowly of eyes that watched him curiously. Garrus felt them on his plates, boring into him in a way that caused him to turn. He was used to stares from passersby and the occasional criminal hoping not to get caught, but this was different somehow.

His sharp gaze turned, and locked with a set of Human eyes. They were so very open, yet disillusioned to the life around them. Hardness was present but with a quality of lost vulnerability in them. Those haunting eyes were situated on a dirty face, smudge with dust and dried blood. If he wasn't mistaken, there were some sloppily done stitches over one eyebrow.

Garrus breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of unwashed bodies of multiple species which was nauseating, and the tang of fresh blood filling every square inch of the area. He evaluated the… female human. Her gaze never wavered and her demeanor remained unchanged. She was simply watching him with honest curiosity.

Nothing more and nothing less.

The Turian repressed a shiver at the open frankness in which this young-or was if juvenile?- female displayed. Every line of her slightly rounded face, and thin body seemed to scream for an intense desire to know; to understand why he had bothered to save her.

She was a Duct Rat. As far as all species on the Citadel were concerned, she was worth nothing. A sad thought, when people felt they were being altruistic… a case to donate money to. More like her every day and all of them with stores that would cause even the most hardened of hearts to fall down and weep uncontrollably.

She tilted her head, without an expression on her alien face and he shivered. Were Turians capable of the act, he would have blushed.

The rattle of a grate, from behind the girl caught his avian eyes causing him to gaze down sharply. The female, turned away and kneeled down. Her hand was extended and she reached inside the vent, he watched her muscles contract as she grasped something.

The C-Sec officer stared in shock, sadness, and bemusement as she helped a small Hanar out followed closely by a two humans of varied age. Lastly the vent gave up a Turian boy, barely old enough to fill in his plates, and an Asari closer to the Female's age. They were all malnourished and dirty from what he could tell. He placed a taloned-hand to his head and rubbed lightly. Garrus suddenly felt overwhelmed at the sight of them.

He had only been trying to save one Duct Rat… not six. Spirits!

His mandibles fluttered, conveying his emotions. It was then he looked back at the Human female, her eyes locked onto his and there was a small smile there, barely visible.

"Thank you," her human flat voice stated with genuine gratitude he could read in her inflection, slightly Turian in the way it was given. His blue eyes flick to the small Turian in understanding. "For helping me save them."

He warbled low in his throat, a show of understanding and slight embarrassment. His mandibles clacked to acknowledge that he heard her.

"I…I can take you to a shelter," he inclined his head toward all of them, but the offer feels hollow even to him.

The human female held up a hand to stop him. "You're alright C-Sec, but we can take care of ourselves from here."

He raised a face plate to tell that he didn't believe a word of that. "And you're managing to get Dextro and Levo food?" His gaze landed on the only other Turian present.

Another genuine smile, but her eyes were tinged with a slightly insulted light. "I take care of what's mine."

As if to support her words, the Turian boy clung to her side, his harmonics rumbling a clear warning. Garrus understood. The child was too small to do damage, but it was in Turian blood to protect and defend. This human female had the child's loyalty. That was no easy feat to accomplish and he said a quick prayer to the Spirits that it remained that way.

He opened his mandibles to give a reassuring harmonic for the boy when his omni-tool signaled the arrival of back-up, and he looked down to type in his coordinates again. _'Always minutes away when dangers are seconds from happening,_' he thought bitterly.

"You'd better get out of he-," his words trailed off as he looked up to see another grate sliding firmly into place, the room silent once again. They were already gone.

He debriefed his superiors and filled the appropriate paperwork for discharge of his firearm. Then even more paperwork for the use of deadly force, though it was clearly needed given the context of the situation coupled with the fact they had _technically_ shot at him first.

As he sighed and muttered his way through form after form he couldn't help but replay the events over in his mind until everything blurred. Then all he was left with were the haunting eyes of a human female, and the mystified question of why they affected him so.


	2. Chapter 2

**An: Please note that the misspelling in Shepard's name to Shepherd is intentional to reflect the definition of a person that tends and rears sheep. It will change later in the story, but for now it is intentional. Thank you for all that reviewed!**

**I own nothing.**

OoOoOo

When a week had finally passed, Garrus had assumed that was the last he would ever see of the human Duct Rat unless he was cleaning her body out of one of the vents. It was a sad thought if he was completely honest, but the likely course of events and no one ever said life was fair. So he went about his duties as usual. Fights needed to be broken up, smugglers stopped, and ordinances upheld. He had been forced to pull one or two drunken people off of the Presidium for a hefty fine. Though, it had given him an excuse to visit the spot and he still enjoyed it even though one person had lost the contents of their stomach all over him upon sight.

Garrus pretended that he hadn't shoved the individual harder than strictly necessary into the air car.

He was also bogged down with a few cases he was looking into. After the incident with the mercenaries, he had rallied the entire department into pressing the C-Sec commander into probing deeper as to how they managed to get aboard the Citadel without anyone being alerted. The implications alone were unpleasant. However, he was met with a frustrating lack of Intel on the entire thing. People mysteriously 'saw nothing' or if they had, they were either cowed into not speaking or had been bribed well enough they didn't care about putting others in danger.

He clicked his mandibles in irritation, his hand rubbing over his tired face. It was well into the night by Citadel common time. Garrus blinked blearily up from some more reports on vandalism, theft, and assault; to check his omni-tool. He should have been in bed hours ago, but found he had trouble sleeping with the mercs on the prowl. He straightened his aching back and moved his sore neck for a moment.

"If I could just get something on these low-life scum," he muttered with absent-minded determination, "then I could _do_ something about them." He gave a low growl of pure frustration.

The street-clothed undercover C-Sec officers hadn't been able to dredge up anything of worth. This left Garrus to believe the mercs had closed ranks, making it nigh on impossible to get an informant in. Slowly, he had considered and rejected a multitude of possibilities. And, while he was willing to take a risk, he didn't count someone's life as a viable risk option.

Dejectedly, he rose from his chair, and turned off his terminal. He straightened up his desk and grabbed his weapon on the way out the door. He paused to wave goodbye to the swing-shift officers who gave back calls of good will. The doors to C-Sec closed behind him as he ventured forward into the mock-night of the Citadel. Practically no-one was out and he waved to a fellow officer on patrol that crossed his path. The Asari gave him a quick smile and nod, and then was gone.

Tiredly he walked up the steps to his apartment building, and keyed in the security code that allowed all residents access to the elevator. Grumbling that he still had to inform his partner that they were no closer since they'd begun, Garrus opened and stumbled into his apartment.

Only, instead of being able to shuck off his armor and crawl into bed, he froze. There, sitting innocently on the floor in his living room, was a data pad he had no memory of dropping. In fact, it wasn't even C-Sec issue. Cautiously, he upholstered his weapon and moved forward. Years in the Turian military and in C-sec had caused Garrus to become just a tad paranoid about the possibility of being intruded upon in his personal space. His apartment furniture was strategically placed so he had many options to cover behind.

He pressed forward, checking behind every door, inside every closet or cupboard, and even under his bed. All the rooms were clear, and he attentively placed his gun back in its holster. He was still on high alert, however. Mystified and now filled with a small amount of dread, he returned to the living room to pick up the pad.

It was encrypted, which surprised him. He was half-expecting some sort of threat against his life. It took a good half-hour to hack, but when he finished his face plates nearly flew off in amazement. It was details on the Merc movements. Everywhere they had been combined with descriptions of a handful or so of men and women who had assumed double lives. One was completely respectable, a local vendor Garrus had bout some upgrades from, and the other was a dirty dealing merc. He hissed, rumbled, and growled his way through the information.

He had no idea who could have left him such a wealth of information. It even had sightings of suspected illegal substance dealings. Garrus was floored. His previous fatigue melted away and he quickly made a copy and attached it to his Omni-tool. If the data checked out, well then, Garrus had some house cleaning to do.

OoOoOo

It continued on like that for a several days. Cases he was working on would catch a break from his mysterious informant. Garrus was inclined to think perhaps somewhere along the lines his good deeds had paid off and now he was reaping the rewards. He had tried to lay ground to catch his informant. Not to cause them harm, or press them for more info-instinct told him this was likely all they had on the subject- but to offer them the protection C-Sec informants were entitled to.

There was some grumbling around the office over how 'lucky' he had gotten. It was light hearted at first, until he saw a fellow Turian eyeballing him with open dislike. Ah, they thought he was becoming a favorite somehow because he had found a good source of information.

While it was never enough for a 'slam dunk' as the humans called it, it was always enough for probable cause to launch an investigation. For the majority of the week, C-Sec had been busily hauling in suspects, confronting them with the gathered Intel, and locking up the majority. Some had to be let go when their high paid defenders came with some song and dance forcing their release. However, not all of them were so fortunate and mercs being the backstabbing lot they are, cut all ties to the ones captured. This left them in a more giving mood when it came to ratting out their cohorts. Garrus had slept better than he ever had since before he joined the military because the streets were being cleared up. It made Garrus feel like C-Sec was capable of actually making a difference and not just tied up in bureaucratic tape.

He reveled in it each new day now, instead of simply dragging himself to work and enduring. It was a fantastic feeling and he had missed it. His mandibles flared with pride at the latest arrest, a real bastard that had been capturing quarians on pilgrimage and selling them as slaves. It sickened him that the majority of the poor souls they had recovered suffered from suit punctures, and infections. He had personally contacted the Flotilla. They had been understandably sickened and enraged by the news. Garrus was very glad he was not a Batarian if the way the suit filters had portrayed the admiralty's rage were anywhere near correct.

The Intel from his mystery source regarding that bust had been delivered to his work station somehow. And, it had not been the first time the pads had been left at his desk. He wasn't sure how the informant was getting in and out without being seen, but it was certainly helpful to have the information all the same.

Also, Garrus had noticed that it was never the same encryption twice, which had left him mightily impressed. Whoever this was, wanted to be sure that it was read only by him.

The Citadel time chimed for the dinner hour in C-Sec, and for the first time in weeks, Garrus found himself with enough time to actually go out to eat instead of hastily cramming his mandibles full of food and chewing with barely enough time to swallow. So he stopped by a café he greatly enjoyed where the owner was a Turian he had served with, his wife was on Palaven visiting family for a time.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Garrus found himself wandering over to the park area. A bench would do quite nicely, and he could watch the stars with interest. Secretly, he would always try to find the stars that led the way back to his home world.

"Tech here! Get your tech! Greatly reduced prices!" Garrus looked up to see a young human male, with slightly broken teeth calling out to the few that remained in the park at this hour. The c-Sec officer noted that all the tech was on the 'high theft' list. Garrus rumbled low in his chest, feeling the vibrations of his upset all the way to his bones. That little punk was dealing in stolen tech, right in front of him.

"I wouldn't worry about him," A decidedly female voice said from his right. He glanced up to see that human from weeks ago, her eyes every bit as enthralling as before. Gingerly she sat next to him on the bench. He knew they looked like polar opposites in station. She was the poorest of the poor with dirt clinging to her hands and fingers as she scrapped food together every day. While he was a respected C-Sec Officer with plenty to eat and clean nearly all the time; as well as welcomed among the majority of the Citadel. She rested a hand lightly on the bench and looked up with a slightly wistful expression at the stars, "he usually only takes what he's given and Mouse is harmless really. Small time stuff at best, for you C-Sec."

Garrus blinked at her, his head tilted as he pondered her. "Mouse, huh?"

She looked back toward him, those haunting eyes just watching patiently. "That's his name. Well, the name he was given anyway."

His mandibles fluttered questioningly, and his face plates shifted slightly into a confused look. "Who gives you the names of rodents?"

A small smile tugged at her lips, and he realized with some concern that he enjoyed making her smile. "They call us a lot worse than rodents," she glanced at him pointedly and he belatedly understood they were already called 'Duct Rats'. "And, besides, that's not how we get our names. We get them placed on us by other Duct Rats," she says the title without bitterness. The way she says it sounds like it is simply a fact and that is what they are. "By how we behave or how we look. Our actions or deeds, and temperament all play part in the naming."

His blue eyes looked down, and he noted uncomfortably that he liked her being so close to him. He nearly growled at himself for turning into a deviant pervert. She was a minor according to human law, and he knew that because if she had been an adult Garrus did not doubt she would have gotten a respectable job by now to support the ones that followed her.

So he shouldn't feel a wave of arousal course through him because she was young. Also she was a _human_, and … and… she was a _human!_ He needed to blow off some steam. While there weren't many female turians on the Citadel, there were a few that would be alright with easing some tension with him.

He tried to console himself, that it was only due to the fact he was slightly lonely, and hadn't had female companionship in a while that he was even remotely attracted to the human female. Garrus didn't have a problem with humans, but he didn't have a fetish for them either.

"What…uh, what do they call you?" He warbled out as steadily as he could.

She rose slowly, he watched her curiously, and tried in vain not to notice the way her limp fringe moved with her. Her strange human eyes that had caused him more than a few hours of self-doubt turned to him fully.

"They call me Shepherd," she inclined her head slightly back towards the vents, "because I watch after the children."

"You're a child yourself," he growled out softly.

"No," she smiled gently and shook her head, "I'm just Shepherd."

He warbled amusement, "My name is-"

"Garrus Vakarian," she finished for him, with a strange delight in those odd human eyes, "I already know."

"Ah," his mandibles fluttered in slight embarrassment. "You've been checking up on me? I'm flattered."

A wry grin spread over her features. "Something like that," she commented dryly.

Then she was gone, fading into the crowd so quickly that Garrus couldn't keep track of her. He scratched the side of his fringe in a nervous gesture, and looked at where she had been. What he saw then, gave him pause. Where her hand had been, was now a data pad. And, it was exactly like all the ones that had mysteriously turned up at his apartment and work.

Shepherd was his informant, and part of him wondered if it was because he had saved her life… or the children's.


	3. Chapter 3

**An: Thank you to all those that reviewed, followed, and faved! You all know how to make an author feel amazing.**

**I own nothing.**

OoOoOo

The proud Vakarian starts to wonder if he is going insane. Everywhere he turns, he catches glimpses of a figure that matches the outline of Shepherd, the human that he cannot explain. There has been a time or two out on patrols that he could have sworn he caught her reflection in a window, only to turn and see nothing.

He rubs his tired eyes, and ponders how much psychological trauma can come from having things go right for once. The continued information had led to a few high caliber arrests that had earned him a commendation in his file. Though he feels flattered, and did do a huge bulk of the work, he had to bite his tongue to keep form crediting Shepherd for most of them. It wasn't because he minded sharing the praise; it was because that would out her as his informant and that could be dangerous for her. Also dangerous for the children she was willing to sacrifice for.

It made his fringe itch to think about the fact there were so many others just like her that were passed by every day. Truthfully, they should have all just been shipped back to their home worlds by species of origin, but none of the worlds would take them. They were a drain on resources and there were many planet side orphans that no one wanted. It was just an injustice that innocent kids like that was left to fend off the dregs of society such as the mercs.

He also found himself unusually worried whenever the time came for cleaning out the ducts. More than a few times, he had caught himself wondering if she and the children were safe. He held his breath until they finished the weekly reports, and only when he didn't hear the correct combination of species did he breathe again.

That was all well and fine, to be concerned about a prized informant, he told himself more often these days.

Normally he thought nothing more of the matter until he thought he caught her outline again on the catwalks. A place no one should be without proper clearance, he reminded himself primly. His visor whirred to life and his eyes strained to look up at the shadowed figure, but as soon as he looked up again it was gone. This left him wondering if he had actually seen anything in the first place. Garrus was concerned he was over thinking things.

That was until she started appearing out in the open every couple of days with a soft smile of greeting, and a wave as he passed her on patrols. The first time had taken him by surprise, but the few times after that he had discovered he rather enjoyed the reassurance she was safe. It prickled something inside of him that she might not be. She always wore that same contemplative and curious expression when she saw him. It felt as if they were both trying to figure the other out. Even though he was a damn good investigator, Garrus mused that she might have him at a disadvantage.

There were times that she would purposefully deter her path away from him, and normally that was when the less scrupulous members of Citadel society were watching. It reminded him, not so gently, that being his informant was still a dangerous thing for Shepherd. Yet, she never flinched away from it and he had yet to prod her for any information.

She always… just _knew_ what he needed. And, that set off the more paranoid aspect of Garrus who was convinced there was a bug somewhere in his apartment. Though thorough searching had provided nothing more than some dastardly dust bunnies, he still wasn't quite convinced she wasn't spying on him.

In fact, he was almost certain she liked him. And, not to stroke his own ego, but he was a likable guy. Well for the most part.

One day, she had passed by him in the one of the lower wards with the Turian boy by her side. The boy had looked at him with open distrust and growled a warning. Garrus had found the action highly amusing and growled right back, waving his mandibles in exaggeration, causing the boy to misstep. Shepherd had given him a curious glance and nudged the boy along.

"Come on," she said firmly, "the others are waiting."

The boy had immediately forgotten all about Garrus except that he grasped Shepherd's hand tightly and pulled her along. She left Garrus with an apologetic smile and soft laugh.

The others. Was it always about others with her? It went against the very way of the Citadel. He narrowed his avian eyes in a thoughtful expression as she was led away by the Turian boy, who Garrus could see was talking incessantly.

He lingered on the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.

OoOoOo

Another day and another patrol found Garrus wandering the Zakara Ward with near disinterest. He'd walked down several flights of stairs and all he wanted was to call it a day. That was until he caught sight of a familiar shape through the entryway, and couldn't stop himself from calling out.

"Shepherd?" His mandibles flutter in slight surprise and greeting.

The female turns and he sees her face clearly for the first time, devoid of the usual grime. She is… well, pleasing enough for a human he supposes. Still, seeing her like this with her hair neatly arranged and her scent clean confused him. Had she turned the appropriate age then?

"Hello, Officer Vakarian," she greets warmly, with her hands still holding a submachine gun. Of all the things he'd expected, seeing her in here was the last one. "Welcome, how may I help you today?"

His sharp teeth glint in the florescent light as he gives a turian grin in true amusement. "Sure thing kid," he rumbles pleased, "after I see your work permit."

She freezes almost unnoticeably. Her eyes take in his uniform, and he sees a thought forming over her face, but he is not skilled enough at reading humans to understand it. "I don't possess one," she says softly.

"And the vendor still hired you?" A brow plate rises in disbelief.

She shook her head gently. "I'm not paid," she states blandly and locks her eyes with his in a slight challenge. "He and I barter. I work here for a shift or two, and in exchange he gives me better dextro food. Tassus deserves more than nutrient paste." She states it all so matter-of-factly that he is impressed.

"Tassus? Is that the little boy that was with you last time?"

She looks at him semi-amused. "He's the only Turian under my care, if that's what you're asking."

It had been, but he hums with both sets of vocal chords to himself and skillfully avoids to comment. Instead he launches the offensive, because now she cannot get away before he slakes his growing curiosity. "Where are the children? Did you leave them in the Asari's care?"

Shepherd blinks, and then gives him a wry grin. "Consara isn't exactly…," she paused as if searching for the right words, "her temperament isn't conducive for her watching the children for longer than forty minutes."

He chuckled lightly in his throat. She was trying to be kind, but to him it only made it sound worse. "I see and where are they?"

"They play in the commons at this time of day," she shrugged her delicate shoulders, "Mark watches over them until I am finished here."

He struggled to figure out which one was called 'Mark'. It sounded as if he were an exile, or a target. The thought concerned him as to why someone would name him as such. "I notice they all don't have names like you, Shepherd."

A somber look crosses her face. "They could have a chance when they are older," she says it with such determination and bittersweet sadness that Garrus feels his throat tighten. "But, in order for that to happen, they cannot be named by the Duct Rats. They need to believe they are more than throw away lives."

Garrus warbles concern he didn't even know he felt. "But what about you?"

"How are things at C-Sec? Was there something you needed?" She attempts to change the topic subtlety, but her gaze shifts away from him. He gets the message clearly that this discussion was over.

It forces him to think back to his original train of thought.

Garrus felt torn. Inexplicably, he couldn't help but feel his duty weigh heavily on him. He should stop her from peddling the merchant's wares, but they are all legal. It is only the fact that she does not have a work permit that trips his C-Sec sense of duty. However, she is also not paid in credits so it could be termed akin to a family member helping out at the shop. Only she is obviously not related in any way, shape, or form to the owner. He clicks his mandibles once in indecision. His visor takes in Shepherd's calm heart beat and steady eyes. It is almost as if she knows what he is debating and still she calmly waits.

It impresses him that she doesn't try to plead or cajole him. And, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't half surprised she doesn't bring up the information she's fed him which would be worth at least a few favors. She does none of these things, choosing instead to look up at him patiently and instinctively he knows that if he rats her out she will never get the chance at a legitimate side-job with a vendor again.

He could take her aside and explain why it is against three ordinances but he sees the Turian shopkeeper edging toward the door with suspicious eyes focused on Shepherd. His mandible twitches once in indecision.

"Is there a problem officer?" The turian business owner asks somewhat sharply, a question in his harmonics. Garrus looks down at the serene human eyes and bites back a growl.

"No, not at all," he lies charmingly with his fate plates shifted into a bright greeting, "I was just asking your assistant here more about your stock. I must say," he warbles with near conviction, "she's more knowledgeable than I would have thought. I know a few of my fellow officers that would be pleased with a few of these modifications."

It works and the other Turian relaxes, his gaze coming off Shepherd to look politely at Garrus. But, he is too busy seeing the look of relief flash behind the human's eyes. It causes him to feel a tightening around his heart that he cannot quite explain. So, he rationalizes that she expected him to betray her and that it didn't sit well.

It sounded plausible enough to him. But it did not stop him from wanting to shake her and tell her she could do better than the ducts as well.

"Tell your friends to come by anytime," the shopkeeper rumbles kindly, "I give discounts to C-Sec."

Garrus knows a sales pitch when he hear one, and graciously mumbles back some small talk. It continued until Shepherd wandered off to help another customer and Garrus watched her.

"You don't need to worry," the other Turian says quietly, "she's a good human. Never causes any trouble."

Garrus blinks, and then turns his eyes slowly to the other Turian. It was painstakingly clear that the male thought him to be a racist. It did not do a thing to improve his mood.

"I didn't think she did," he replied equally as quiet.

The shopkeeper gave him a look and nodded slowly and then shuffled off to look after other customers. It left Garrus with a bitter taste in his mouth that another Turian had so openly defended her.

Because some part of him couldn't help but believe that was his job and no one else's. Promptly he roused himself from such a thought and shook his head. He really needed to get home and take a break. His mandibles tightened closer to his face, and he decided that it was high time he called an old female friend of his to help him ease some tension.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks so much to those that have left comments! I appreciate it!**

**I own nothing.**

OoOoOo

He's far more relaxed than he's felt in weeks. Garrus had been able to call up an old acquaintance, and they'd settled a few rounds of 'sparring' in his apartment. He'd need to replace a table, and possibly a few other small items, but it had been more than worth it. She was a former scout from back in his military days.

And, he'd always enjoyed her flexibility. He half-purred to himself at the memory, with his arms swinging loosely at his sides as he walked to work. His face showing a touch of his good mood, as were his sub-harmonics with rumbled with contentment. Mentally, he reminded himself to see when she'd be available again. There was nothing between them aside from mutual respect and attraction.

However, there was nostalgia from his military days mingling with the relaxed hum of his muscles.

All that remained of their night together was a mess, and his obvious smile. He entered C-Sec rather cheerfully, and was greeted by a few of his coworkers. He nodded his head at a few, seeking his desk.

"Got any more good leads today, Vakarian?" Someone calls from behind him. It's an old joke by now, but he bares it with grace and clicks his mandibles while giving a noncommittal hum.

"Maybe," he offers vaguely.

"I've got to find your source," an Asari in the desk next to him purrs, "so I can lure them away from you with my feminine wiles."

"Really?" He asks clearly amused, with a plate sliding up in disbelief.

"Don't knock it until you try it, as my partner always says," she flashed him a superior smile, "once you go blue, _nothing else_ will do."

He nearly barks out with laughter at the thought of her attempting to seduce Shepherd, only to narrow his eyes at the Asari threateningly, when his mind imagines it working. He widens his mandibles in a Turian grin when she reels back. "Now, now. We can't have that, can we? Besides, maybe my source likes Elcor more than either of us." He waggles his mandibles suggestively. It's a way to diffuse the situation because he's suddenly on edge at the idea of someone chasing Shepherd.

The asari grins genuinely and Garrus goes back to logging in and check his reports on a few cases. Forcing himself to get rid of the silly notion of being over protective of the human, he thinks back to his tie breaker from the night before. He thrums with relaxed energy again and more than one fellow male Turian gives him a knowing look. Garrus resists the urge to puff up, and gets down to business.

The hours don't really fly by, but he's buried in paperwork that simply has to be done. He spends an hour or two dealing with some people milling about the office hoping to speak with an officer over some small matter or another. He's just about to tell a preaching Hanar where he can stuff the enkindlers, when he motions for another Turian to take over. It wouldn't do to be seen shouting at the poor misguided thing. He collects more files and puts away some of his finished reports, nodding to a few humans corralling the latest bounty hunter not wanting to listen to the laws of the Citadel.

Around lunch break he notices that he hasn't heard from Shepherd yet today. Seeing her had become a nearly daily occurrence. And, though it is odd, perhaps she was busy? He scarfed down a nutrition bar, and some sort of pastry one of the other turians had brought in. It was one of the few traditions humans had, which other species had quickly gotten behind. Bringing tasty treats to work, though they had made some joke about it happening to cops back on earth. Garrus shrugs it off with good humor, and tries not to reflect on Shepherd's absence today.

He fails miserably an hour later when he's balancing a PAD on his claw and twirling it slowly. No one is paying him any attention, and some mindless task helps him think.

Perhaps she was working another illegal shift for one of the vendors. He's willing to look the other way on something so small, and really she's not hurting anyone. The Turian shop owner seems happy with her, and she is taking mostly adequate care of the ones that follow her. That is what makes the difference on the things Garrus is willing to overlook. Not like that bastard Dr. Saleon.

Thinking about him made Garrus want to break something. The bastard had been growing spare organs inside the people that worked for him. Many were completely unaware. He prayed on the poor and unprotected. He couldn't help thinking of Shepherd. His mandibles fluttered, as he stared blankly at the console screen. He was grateful Dr. Saleon had never met someone like Shepherd, who seemed strangely inclined to sacrifice for others.

His mandibles flatten across his jawline. His face must look fierce, because another Turian warbles at him questioningly. Garrus locks his blue eyes with gold, and gives a slight shake of his head. '_No_', he thinks,' _I'm sure she's fine_.'

He rouses himself and proceeds to finish out the day. There are only two complaints of vagrants in the area, a lovesick salarian with the best of intentions, and an angry krogan to deal with, before he lets his head fall onto his desk with an audible 'whack'.

"I know the feeling," the asari from before mutters under her breath at him.

OoOoOo

He doesn't hear from her, and doesn't see her for weeks. His concern for Shepherd grows each day and before he can stop himself, he's put out feelers to see if anyone's seen her. His contacts come up with nothing. If she's hiding, they tell him plainly, she doesn't want to be found. He glowers at the latest unhelpful information. Viciously he swipes a few scattered PAD's to the floor.

He's agitated. He's worried. And what's worse is he can't explain why it bothers him so damn much. Maybe it's because his work has all but come to a standstill.

She's not anywhere. She hasn't popped up with some new information, and he hasn't seen her on his patrol. He's become accustomed to seeing her face, and those haunting eyes that look right through him sometimes. As far as he can tell, she's vanished and it worries him. Has she been taken by slavers? Did more mercs find her? Was she injured somewhere? Where was she?

He snarled at the predicament and swiped a hand over his neck in frustration. He couldn't even trace her by her gaggle of kids, because the ducts rats were notorious on being tight lipped on one of their own. Both cajoling and threatening hadn't gotten him anywhere. Most of the duct rats seemed to know he was an officer even in plain clothes, and they wouldn't speak to him. Even though it sounds crazy, it's almost like the duct rats were on lockdown for some reason.

Here he was again, down in the lowest parts of the Citadel, walking around the maze of trash, vents, machinery, and the watchful eyes of the neglected.

They edge away from him, or scurry to their respective areas every time he draws near. No matter how cautiously he approaches, or how calm he seems, they are terrified of him. He doesn't see a child he recognizes as part of her group anywhere. It saddens him to see so many abandoned children though. The irony doesn't escape him that here in the bowels of the Citadel, all the species are actually living in harmony. Granted it's covered in dirt, dung, and neglect, but the species all seem comfortable around each other. Still they're kids and it causes him to warble a sad sound. Even a rotund volus peaked out behind a crate with the patches to his ragged suit obvious as he stood next to a dirty salarian child.

Spirits! There were just so many of them. Then again, this Citadel was huge. His blue avian eyes flickered from face to face.

"Have any of you seen Shepherd?" He asks softly, lowly, for the children's' benefit.

They stare at him with distrustful eyes, eyes that hungrily look at his pockets though he didn't bring anything with him. They won't even tell him if they know of her. He isn't sure how well word gets around between them, or even if they grouped in the same clusters. The Citadel is huge, and there was no way to know if duct rats crossed paths with the ones on the other arms. It was impossible to tell, they were the silent and ignored problem of society.

Dejected, Garrus moves away leaving the faces of countless children watching him as the darkness swallows them once more.

"Don't see why you care, C-Sec," a voice stops Garrus in his tracks.

He narrows his eyes into the darkness, and slowly he recognizes a bare face. A bare face and a bad attitude, he thinks to himself.

"Tassus, right?"

The smaller Turian snorts in response.

"Where is Shepherd?"

"Why do you care?" He shoots back defiantly.

"Just tell me, kid."

Tassus remains silent for a moment. "She's not your concern. I can protect her. We don't need _you._" It's a hiss, but his sub harmonics betray his insecurity. Turian stubbornness, an asset and a fault all in one, and Garrus knows it well.

He warbles in confusion when Tassus won't offer more of an explanation. "Is she alright?" He questions almost softly incase the little Turian is in distress.

"Just go away," the boy warbles with anger resonating from his chest, and his sub harmonics are filled with clear warning.

Garrus feels an eye plate shift in surprise.

"What's going on?"

"Get lost!" The boy shouts, and charges. His tiny fists strike Garrus' armor. It is ineffectual and rather cute to the grown Turian, but the kid is putting up one hell of a fighting instinct. "She doesn't want you around anymore, and _neither do I_!"

Garrus tilted his head, regarding the boy through thoughtful eyes. "Doesn't want me around?" He stops the boys beating fists easily and kneels down to the child's height. "Shepherd and I are friends."

"Some _friend,_" the boy spits at him, like an angry varren.

He is taken aback by the vehemence in the tone, his mandibles widen in shock. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The child glares at him petulantly. The growl emanating from him shakes his whole body and Garrus growls lowly back at him. As an adult warning a misbehaving child, it quells the boy for a moment with his bare face showing true surprise.

Ice blue eyes clash with metallic gray. The kid may not be in a position to be trusted when he is older, because of his lack of clan markings, but Garrus can see he is protective of Shepherd.

"I just want to know, if she's in trouble." He stated firmly.

Tassus, twitches a mandible considering. Finally, he shakes his head to the negative. Garrus nods in acceptance, and wonders why Shepherd wouldn't want to see him anymore.

OoOoOo

Three weeks later, he's still confused and he's walking the wards, not doing much more than glaring at each passerby. He's been scrutinizing the human females to see if he can spot Shepherd. Day after day, he comes up with nothing, until finally one day his avian eyes narrow on someone who fits the bill.

She's walking quickly away from him, hasn't seen him likely, and Garrus can't stop himself from stalking after her. She stops near a rapid transit terminal her limp fringe splays across her back, and Garrus watches her curiously. She doesn't look injured so some of the tension slips from his shoulders. He calms significantly knowing she is alright, she's such a tender heart compared to the other people in this place that of course he would fear for her safety. Hers and the safety of the children she watches over.

He watches Tassus, making a bee line from the opposite direction, meeting her under the shadows. He blinks and misses the entrance of a drell male in full leather. The drell walks up and taps Shepherd on the shoulder. She turns with wide eyes, those eyes that haunted him so very much recently, and smiles when she recognizes the male. Garrus resonated his sub-harmonics in displeasure. The drell was obviously an adult and that didn't bode well in Garrus' opinion as to why he would be chatting with a young female with limited resources.

The Turian narrowed his eyes on the drell who was likely some depraved sex fiend. Garrus didn't trust his green scaled skin and black eyes, which watched Shepherd far too closely. He felt his fringe rise in agitation, and his mandibles tightened closer to his face.

Blue eyes zeroed in on the drell's hand patting Shepherd on the shoulder, and Tassus must've known this man as well for the Turian boy didn't seem upset. The leather jacket the drell wore swished to one side as he dug a credit chip out of his pocket. Garrus warbled promises of pain and retribution as the drell placed his hand under Shepherd's chin tilting it upward. His free hand made a motion to Tassus.

Oh, that was it! The bastard was trying to pick Shepherd up as if she were a hooker and obviously using the boy as a reason she should agree. Turian pride and fury roared to life, and Garrus strode forward, his harmonics broadcasting before he reached the group.

"What's going on here?" He snarled in rage, his fury written on every line of his face. The drell blinked and watched him.

Something in the way he moves causes Garrus to feel as if this male is a threat in more ways than one.

"Nothing officer," the deeper warbling of the drell irritated Garrus to no end. What a slime ball.

Avian eyes narrow on the other grown male with contempt and disbelief. He swings his gaze to Shepherd who looks at him briefly before lowering her gaze to the floor. Ah ha! It was just as he thought. He steps quickly in front of Shepherd and the pervert presenting a wall of pissed of Turian. The challenge is clear in his eyes and the drell looks…faintly amused as his larger eyes flick from Shepherd to the Turian, then back again.

Garrus clacks his mandibles with some clicks of open hostility to hide his confusion. The drell bows slightly, his face betraying nothing. "Forgive me, I must be off."

Garrus keeps himself from puffing out his chest in pride.

"Shepherd," the drell rumbles lowly, "if you change your mind, you know where I will be."

The C-Sec officers snarled in response. The drell wisely took a step backward.

"Sure thing, Krios," Shepherd says behind him.

Garrus cranes his neck to stare at her incredulously. "You aren't going anywhere near him Shepherd," he warns her firmly.

Human eyes look up at him defiantly. "Tassus, sweetheart, would you go find the others?"

Tassus spits hisses at Garrus as menacingly as a small child can manage. The effect falls flat, but he still tries. "Yes, Shepherd," he responds finally before rushing off from the pair.

"I'm serious Shepherd," Garrus growls pointing a finger at her, "you're not to go anywhere near that Krios character. Ever."

She blinks at him, either unimpressed or insulted he cannot tell, and turns away from him.

"Do you hear me?" He vents his frustration in his vocals, noting that there is hardly anyone else around this area.

She still and slowly turns to face him. "Officer Vakarian," her voice is deceptively calm to the fire flashing in her eyes, "I am free to see whomever I choose."

His mandibles flatten and his faceplates tighten. He does not like hearing that. She could get hurt, he reminds himself, and that is why her open defiance bothers him.

"Like hell," he hisses under his breath.

She hears him, and looks at him in confusion. "Krios won't hurt me. He and I go back a ways."

It makes Garrus sick to think that… that… green sexual deviant has approached shepherd before, or worse, to imagine those hands on her soft human skin. In his head the images play of what could have happened if he hadn't been here with her eyes crying out for him to stop the drell and save her.

"I'll kill him," his predatory gaze is already searching from the leather jacket in the crowd.

Shepherd's face flickers several emotions until her eyes widen slightly and she lets off a bitter laugh. "Not like that _officer_," she says heatedly, "I'm not a whore."

Unbidden, images flash of Shepherd spread out on his bed. Her luminous eyes are begging him to…He shakes his head, when in his mind her cries turn to pleasure and it's a three-fingered hand tracing up her sides. Whoa. Where did that come from?

He calms slightly, and feels embarrassment crash over his mind. Well, this was awkward.

Her chin tilts up and her eyes are suddenly cold. He doesn't like that look on her, it's so far removed from the way she used to look at him, that it causes his throat to tighten uncomfortably. "Krios is good to us. I give him what I gave you."

Ah, information.

His mandibles itch with the urge to apologize to her, and the strange but compelling feeling to ask her why she's upset with him. Garrus cannot think of anything he'd done before now to make her so upset.

"Oh," he replies lamely, searching in vain for the words to turn this situation around.

"Yeah, oh." She retorts with hands on her hips. "If we are done here officer, I have people to feed."

He doesn't shrink back at her open gaze, but the look of disappointment and sadness in her eyes causes him to swallow a rather large lump in his throat. Whatever he'd been about to say, is drowned out when a gaggle of dirty children approaches Shepherd. Their voices loud and grating on his senses, but Shepherd smiles at all of them and grabs Tassus up to give him an affectionate nuzzle. The hanar child wraps a tentacle around her free hand, and they start chattering away.

He watches the group go, and wonders why her leaving makes his chest hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

**An: Thanks for the reviews! They mean so much **

**I own nothing. Rated M.**

OoOoOo

He's been following some of her more normal movements. Only some because she's still damn near untraceable and he's ready to shred his couch in frustration. He's been in plain clothes twice just to try and catch her walking by. However, even stopping by the store where she infrequently worked didn't help. Shepherd had apparently ended their deal until an unspecified date.

Garrus snarls and warbles in distress.

He blearily looks at the local time and groans. He doesn't have long before work and he doesn't even want to go. Still, ever the dutiful Turian, he showers and dresses. He feels listless and cannot even think of a reason why.

Work is only barely tolerable and the jokes from his colleges serve even less purpose today than usual. By the time he leaves, he's ready to commit genocide on the volus. If one more comes to him complaining about a business transaction that was by all standards perfectly legal, he's going to simply lose it.

He storms out of C-Sec like a there's a fire hot on his heels. Normally, people had the good sense to move out of the way of a distracted Turian, but he collides with a body of warm flesh. He crushes his arms around them to stop them both from careening to the ground.

His avian eyes narrow at a familiar face that has been plaguing him for a while now.

"Oh damn," Shepherd mutters, "of all the people."

"Good to see you too," he rumbles half-annoyed.

A flash of silver catches his attention, as does the shape of the object.

"I don't have time for this."

"Make time," Garrus demands roughly, "whatever you're up to its bad news if you're carrying a gun."

"Shit. You can tell? Look, if I'm not being placed under arrest, you can't detain me."

"What is all this about then?" His mandibles flutter and his face plates shift angrily.

"Nothing!" she shouts at him.

"You are so confusing," he mutters darkly. "Is this because of-"

"Not everything is about your sex life _Officer_." Shepherd cuts him off with a half snarl.

Whatever his brain had been about to tell his mouth to say is forgotten to the wind. "My _sex life_?" His face plate rises above his left eyebrow in surprise. "What's my sex life got to do with any of this?"

She sputters, and turns a funny red color. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she forces passed clenched teeth. Her hand wipes at her face, and he can see the bags under her eyes. He's worked with enough humans to know what a lack of sleep looks like on them.

He watches her intently, as she hugs herself for a moment. "Look, I have something to take care of," she finally says and her eyes don't quite meet his, "I really don't have time to stick around."

He feels it in his gizzard that something isn't right with this situation. Shepherd doesn't even know how to shoot a gun to his knowledge. If she did, it would elevate her on the C-Sec watch list, from non-existent to minor annoyance. And, he can't let her get hurt. She's obviously being stupid about something, or is in some sort of trouble.

"Then I'm coming with you," he warbles with finality.

She looks like she's about to tell him where to go, how to get there, and how often he can take the trip. He bares his sharp teeth at her, to show her he's serious and he can tell she recognizes the gesture from Tassus. Shepherd drops her head for a moment.

"Fine," she mutters with resignation. "Just be sure that you keep up."

She doesn't give him time to react to the words before she is moving across the floor toward the wards elevator, with her head held high. He doesn't give her the chance to close the door in his face, as he squeezes into the enclosed space with her. He realizes just how small she is compared to him, as she resolutely presses the button over and over again.

"That doesn't make it go any faster," he informs her with a touch of amusement lacing his words.

Shepherd ignores him and continues to punish the innocent button.

Finally, the door opens as she is already moving with her feet flat on the floor. They weave, and move through the crowds. He notices that she moves like she's done this countless times as she seamlessly slips through the throngs of Citadel masses. Garrus takes a look at his surroundings, and notices that they are heading into the less than reputable districts.

He nearly has a heart attack when Shepherd leads him into the red light district.

"Are you sure you're going the right way?" He trills uncomfortably as one or two prostitute's cat-call him from the sidelines. Shepherd nods her head and plows onward.

Garrus is so busy trying not to be seen down here that he nearly runs into her when she comes to a dead stop in front of him. His avian eyes narrow at the building slightly buried away toward the back.

"A hotel?" His heart races with the implications. She's young and it's wrong, but some sick twisted part of him entertains the thought for a full twelve seconds before he crushes it. "Shepherd, this isn't – I'm not-"

She blinks at him in confusion. Her eyes look back at his rapidly moving mandibles and the hotel a few times. "I'm going there to get someone."

His earlier embarrassment is replaced swiftly with anger. "Is that Drell in there?" He'll kill him if he is.

"No. I've got business to take care of."

"Shepherd, what's this about?"

She keeps her gaze away from him and flexes her hands gently. Finally those haunting eyes he finds so fascinating look at him with that same open honesty that makes him forget the rest of the problems in the Citadel.

"Someone I know is in a bad situation."

He shoots a glare at her. "Is that a euphemism?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Then why are you involved?"

"It's complicated," she mutters pushing back some of her loose fringe.

"That's not a very detailed answer. Are you the one in trouble, Shepherd?"

She snorts rudely at him. "I'm not stupid enough to get into bed with the Shadow Broker's people," she retorts dismissively.

The Shadow Broker? Shepherd shouldn't even know about him, and Garrus can feel his shock at her words. He doesn't believe her, and the look on his face must give him away, because she levels a withering stare at him. Garrus ponders her reaction.

"Then why are you here? If it's not you, then…?" He trails off for a moment with his mandibles flaring.

Shepherd eyes him with emotions warring on her face until she finally gives in. Her eyes soften slightly and she looks away dejectedly. "I said _I_ wasn't stupid enough."

"Oh," he mutters as he pieces it together. "So, one of the others?"

She sighs long and low. "Yeah."

"Which one?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," he replies in surprise. His harmonics resonated with his shock.

She aims a blank look in his direction. "Let me rephrase that. It doesn't matter for you who it is."

He bites back the insulted snarl that threatens to work its way out of his throat. "Shepherd, you should have come to me."

She turns toward him fully with those strange penetrating eyes watching him carefully. He can see she didn't even consider him an option and it stings. He can't exactly say why, but it irks him like something jabbing into his fringe repeatedly. It's a jarring feeling that just will not go away.

His blue eyes wander over her. "You're really telling me that you came in here with a gun you can hardly aim to save someone?"

Garrus is torn between wanting to laugh at the lunacy of this plan, and wanting to throttle her for putting herself in danger.

Her lips twitch and he thinks he's finally getting somewhere. His instinct is to pull her close, tell her she's an idiot, then save whoever this is being held hostage, and finally sit her in a C-Sec cell until she has the good sense to apologize for being a reckless fool.

"Who are we saving?"

"_We_ aren't saving anyone," she informs him defiantly. "_I_ am taking care of my own."

He tamps down on his irritation. She's clearly getting hysterical if she's talking back to him like this. "Shepherd," Garrus warbles in a chastising tone.

"It's not your life. Not your problem C-Sec."

He begins to wonder when his job became a curse word amongst the duct rats. It seems as if she and Tassus like to bandy about his title when he displeases them. His mandibles tighten close to his face and avian eyes narrow at her menacingly.

"I'm making it my problem," he growls lowly and he sees her shiver slightly.

"You want to come along and rescue a duct rat that bad?" He thinks that the sneer decorating her features is completely wrong on her. It unsettles him; she should never look at him like he's the enemy. It makes his plates itch between his shoulders, and causes him to feel slightly hostile.

"Hand over the gun Shepherd, you're not authorized to have one, and you know that. We do this my way."

She glares at him, her eyes darting toward the hotel angrily. "Fine take it," she snarls and flips the safety on. Then she throws it at him, Garrus dodges it with a startled hiss of displeasure. "I don't need it anyway."

Shepherd lurches forward, and nearly topples him over as he's reaching for the pistol she tossed at him. He clicks his jaw in irritation as he pockets the weapon away and follows her. Her shorter legs nearly outpacing him as she streams passed the front desk despite the objections of an employee. Her limp fringe bounces teasingly in his view as his eyes wander her shape. He mentally corrects himself and forces any thought other than helping her, out of his mind.

A trembling hand pops the nearest circuit lock, and he watches her strange five-fingered hands work quickly. The door gives a sputtering groan, before the doors open with a pressurized hiss. Silently, she stalks inside and his thoughts are whirling with how experienced she seems to be with this.

He has some questions for her later.

The room is lit sparsely, and his avian eyes focused on a mass of moving limbs on a bed.

Shepherd stills next to him looking like an animal ready to pounce. The lines of her body are sleek and smooth. There is a subtle tension around her that leads him to believe she's close to attacking the pair of Asari twined in a lover's embrace on the bed. Her haunting eyes are consumed with a fury Garrus finds impressive as his mandibles twitch in approval.

"Consara!" She barks out with a roar and the paler of the two lovers jumps.

"Sh-Sh-Shepherd?!" Garrus watches the girl try and pull up the nearest sheet to cover her nakedness. "What are… what are you doing here? Isn't that the C-Sec officer?"

Shepherd's eyes are focused solely on the darker Asari who is wearing a smug grin.

"Sharta," Shepherd growls and Garrus feels himself lean more protectively towards the human at the open hostility she is radiating. Instinct tells him the darker asari is a threat.

"My, my, is that you Shepherd?" The one called Sharta all but purrs and sits up proudly in her purple hued skin. Garrus warbles an uncomfortable noise. The pair is naked, and he's the one who is embarrassed.

"You know damn well who I am," Shepherd spits out in anger, eyes bright and ready for a fight. Her gaze swings to the blushing maiden asari still trying in vain for a touch of modesty. "Consara what the hell have I told you about getting mixed up with the Shadow Broker?"

"I'm not!"

"She works for the Shadow Broker Consara! I told you that, and not to get involved with her because I knew you were better than this." Shepherd's volume is close to screaming.

"Better than what?" The other challenges haughtily. "Digging food out of trash bins? Watching you work yourself to the bone? Forgive me if I want more than the life of a duct rat."

"Damn it Consara! I was helping you get a better life. Why do you think we scrapped together enough to get you those night courses? You're almost old enough to get a real job! Better than shaking your ass in some seedy bar or getting passed around like some ship whore for Sharta's crew." Shepherd's eyes glitter with hurt and betrayal. "We could have gotten you enough qualifications for a good career."

The light blue woman looks slightly ashamed, "I'll have a good career and life with Sharta. She'd never use me."

Both Shepherd and Sharta snort, one in disbelief, the other in amusement. Garrus feels his agitation grow. This was not a good sign.

"It's not about the Shadow Broker Shepherd. Sharta and I love each other," Consara continues with conviction.

Shepherd laughs, a bitter and hollow sound. "You blind and misguided fool. Didn't even have the decency to tell her the truth, did you Sharta?" Her human finger points in accusation.

The purple asari shrugs in disinterest, "Guilty as charged."

"Wha-?" Consara turns aghast.

"This was never about you Consara, Sharta doesn't give a damn about you. Never has and never will. It's about getting information. It always is."

"Oh come now Shepherd, you're spoiling all my fun."

Consara pulls back as if slapped. "Sharta?" Her wide eyes are nearly brimming with unshed tears.

Sharta sighs and stands up unhurriedly. "You're good in the sack kid, but that's about it." She grabs for her clothes, sliding into her pants smoothly.

"But you said I had useful skills that were needed."

"I lied."

"Consara, why do you think I never pushed to have you enrolled in an asari school? Your biotics are weak at best, and you don't have a knack for hacking, encryption, or anything else the Shadow Broker requires. You don't even have combat training. What is it you think you can do that would catch the attention of someone like Sharta? The best you can do Consara is take a bullet in the line of fire. She used you Consara to get to me." The human draws herself up to her full height. "My answer is still no Sharta. It always will be. So stop coming around."

The purple asari grins and her eyes flash with a wicked light. "You've always been too damn smart for your own good Shepherd."

"Seems like it's good enough if it keeps me from people like you," she hisses out and Garrus feels himself copy the sound. The Turian in him rises to the surface in the face of an opponent, and he's positioning himself closer to protect Shepherd. Whoever Sharta is, she's not getting within a light year of Shepherd after this ordeal is over. He'll make sure of that.

Sharta eyes him in speculation. "Calm down C-Sec I haven't done anything illegal." Her head jerks toward the other asari quickly, "She's legal among my kind."

He knows it's true but it doesn't stop him from feeling sickened. And, it galls him that he can't touch her. Shepherd's word would hardly stand up in court and if Sharta was a decent agent, she wouldn't be a resource left to rot in a cell. Bastards.

"How could you?" Consara screams out, her figure shaking in barely suppressed pain. "Do I really mean so little to you?"

"In a word…yes." She doesn't bother to turn to her former lover; instead her eyes are focused on Shepherd with a hungry predator's gaze.

"Damn you Sharta," Shepherd says moving forward to get Consara away from the other asari.

"What? You always warn them Shepherd."

The human's face closes down into a blank mask, and she gathers Consara's clothes and hands them over quietly. The blue asari bats them away with a mewl of despair.

"Always?" Garrus has the feeling he already knows the answer before the asari speaks through a smiling mouth.

"Don't you know?" Sharta's faux innocent look causes his stomach to clench tightly. "Little Shepherd here has been taking in the strays since-"

"Shut your fucking mouth Sharta."

The older asari looks at Shepherd with amusement, "Since I've known her. That's what? Ten years now, isn't it?" Her gaze meets Garrus' and Sharta winks at him. "She was always warning the others not to get mixed up with 'recruiters', such a cute name by the way Shepherd, says we're a bad influence. Can you imagine? It's such a pity they never listen." A mocking sigh leaves her lips and he quells the urge to scratch her lips off her face.

Garrus swings his sight over to Shepherd, who is quiet next to Consara. Her eyes are fierce and he can tell she's ready to throw herself at the asari with everything she's got.

"Have you heard from Latra? Pamela? Dazre? The one who follows the Enkindlers in bleakness? How about Nick?"

Almost unperceptively, Shepherd flinches at each name. "You would know better than I, Sharta."

"Yes," the smug look is back on the purple face, "I would. Wouldn't I?"

Garrus watches as Sharta walks around the bed. Consara whimpers in pain, as the older asari leans closely to Shepherd's ear. "They're all dead," she pulls back with a smile of pure venom, "but you knew that already. Didn't you _Shep-herd?_"

The human's eyes are glassy and Garrus rumbles a note of warning at the asari.

"Oh well, this reunion was nice. Until next time Shepherd," Sharta purrs out and struts her stuff into the hallway only half clothed.

"Bitch," Shepherd growls a few seconds after the door closes.

"Shepherd," Consara sobs into the human's shoulder. "Goddess I was such a fool. I'm so sorry."

"I know Consara," Shepherd says with a deep sigh. "But Sharta did bring up a very good point. I warned you when I took you in that you couldn't be part of anything to do with those people. That's why we do things the right way, the legal way. And that way sure as hell does not involve the Shadow Broker. Don't bother coming home," she says quietly, "you're no longer welcome."

"You're kicking me out? No! It won't happen again. I've learned my lesson."

The human shakes her head sadly. "No, you got caught. There is a difference."

"You can't. I have nowhere to go. You can't do this."

"You were perfectly happy to disobey my rule when you thought you had some place to run off to. You made that choice, not me. Now that Sharta has left you where she found you, you think 'sorry' is going to make it all better. Life doesn't work that way Consara." Eyes of steel are on Shepherd's face. "You only get one chance. I told you that when we first met."

"Forgive me Shepherd! Forgive me," the asari cries out pitifully. She sobs openly as her knees hit the floor. Her blue hand stretched out in supplication.

"I cannot compromise the safety of the others. Just as I threw Dazre out right after I took you in, I have to do the same here. I'm sorry Consara but you forced my hand."

Shepherd disentangles herself from the girl sobbing on the floor. Her head turns away as she marches past Garrus, and she pauses at the doorway. "The courses are still paid up. If I were you," she says softly and Garrus hears the emotions she's trying to stifle, "I would finish them and look for a legitimate job. You can still have a good life."

She doesn't look at him, and her hand grips the doorframe tightly. "Looks like I owe you one again C-Sec."

"Shepherd! Shepherd! Don't go!" Consara wails as she crumples further into the floor.

Garrus feels his mandibles flatten along the planes of his face as he puzzles the mystery that is Shepherd and what, by the Spirits; he's supposed to do with a young naked asari crying on the floor. He does the only sensible thing he can think to do. He calls C-Sec and asks for an asari back-up.

OoOoOo

He's still reeling when he goes into work a week later, trying to not replay everything that happened. He tries in vain to keep Shepherd's words out of his head and he does a good job right until he sees her walk through the door.

Shepherd. His Shepherd, dressed in clean clothes walking into C-Sec with Chellick at her side and Tassus clinging to her hand. She doesn't glance at him, but he knows somehow that she's aware of where he is. His back goes impossibly straight as he assesses all the possibilities as to why she's here.

Chellick ushers them into his office and shuts the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**An: Thank you so much to all those that have read/followed/faved/reviewed. I do appreciate it. As for those that have notice my grammatical and spelling errors. Hey, I do the best I can to edit and I understand that it can be distracting. Sorry if some get through, but please do not let it detract from the story. Sorry for the short chapter, I will update as I get time.**

**Anyway, I own nothing, and here we go!**

OoOoOo

Garrus, to his dying day, would never admit that he'd taken the time in his earlier C-SEC days to figure out the best way to eavesdrop on conversations that normally had nothing to do with him. Or, at least, that is what his supervisors always told him. So, it was with the utmost discretion that he pushed his chair back from his desk and formed a bored expression across the planes of his face. He kept his eyes wandering constantly, never focusing on anything for too long in order to spot anyone watching him. He didn't find anyone looking at him with more than a cursory glance to note his movement.

He strolled lazily toward the dextro beverages provided by the department for the comfort of the officers. The dispenser, coincidentally, just so _happened_ to be right next to Chellick's office. Therefore, if Garrus just so happened to _hear_ something while he was over there, well it wasn't really his fault. After all, Garrus couldn't possibly be held accountable for every little bit of noise that floated across his translator.

Avian eyes narrowed, as he unhurriedly picked up a cup and pretended to peruse the beverage selections. He always ended up getting the same thing, though he never understood why. Perhaps that human saying did apply and he was a 'creature of habitat'… or something. It sounded like that, he was sure.

Her thoughtfully stroked his chin plate and listened discreetly to any sounds coming from the good detective's office. He thought he heard Shepherd asking a question, but he only caught the tail end of it when a Volus loudly burst through the commons with some gibberish about his partner trying to kill him. Garrus controlled the urge to growl.

He risked a quick glance through the window next to Chellick's door. He could see Tassus staring straight a head, and he watched Shepherd make an animated gesture. Chellick looked… amused. Garrus wasn't certain how to process that tidbit of information.

"Sometime this century, please, Vakarian?" A voice asked from behind him.

Garrus gave a surprised warble and glanced behind him. He saw a familiar face with white markings. "Sorry, I'll move it along." He punched the code for his usual and waited with his veins thrumming in agitation for it to fill. He mumbled another apology to the Turian behind him and walked back toward his desk.

'_What is going on in there?_' His thoughts churned the question over and over like someone fingering a credit chit. His left mandible twitched as his mind came up with several scenarios, few of which sounded plausible and two that left his hackles raised. However, he tried to remind himself that Chellick was an upstanding Turian, and would never do anything untoward to Shepherd. Never.

Then again…

He shook himself and settled into his paperwork, his eyes however could not stop from flicking upward occasionally toward the door. He mentally took note that they were in there for five minutes, then ten, then fifteen, and right around the twenty-third minute mark the doors opened. Garrus listened intently, and allowed himself to monitor things through his visor, but made sure not to stare directly at the exiting party. He nearly growled in frustration when he couldn't quite catch what was being said over the ambient noise of the station. However, he did catch the smile Shepherd threw at Chellick, and he jumped when he heard a sharp 'crack'.

Garrus stared mutely at the PAD screen he had fractured with his grip. When his blue eyes looked up again, Shepherd was gone.

OoOoOo

It still is on his brain, how well Shepherd broke into that hotel room. How she simply _knew_ what to do. He wonders briefly, if she was mixed up with bad people before she was named 'Shepherd'? But no, he reminds himself that that couldn't be the case because she'd told him she had never been involved with those people. Yet, what did he know about Shepherd? Other than what she told him, he knew nothing. She could have been lying to him since day one, but his gut told him that she'd always told him the truth.

So, if this was her life style, what she'd become accustomed to… why did it bother him so? The thought of someone like Shepherd out there trying to keep the proverbial varrens off her back and the backs of other innocent children caused him to feel angry. She was... Shepherd was… what exactly? She was something he'd never seen before; nothing like her. It wasn't the bleeding heart complex; Garrus had seen plenty of that in his days and every day. No, it was something more. Something the Turian couldn't quite put his claw on.

It wasn't that she'd seen more than her fair share of death and unfairness. A young body with eyes older than Palavan for all the horrors she'd witnessed, no Garrus had seen that many times. The way she'd dealt with Consara had been effective. It was detached, though he knew just how far Shepherd would go for those she watched over. It had to be done in the human's eyes, it was akin to cutting off a gangrenous limb.

He scratched at the back of his neck, wincing when he put too much pressure on the sensitive skin. '_What is it about Shepherd?_' He pondered quietly to himself, as he counted down the minutes until his shift was over. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Chellick about the human and, perhaps if he were exceedingly lucky, not make Chellick suspicious.

So he went through his reports, filed a few claims from the latest act of vandalism with the ward's 'neighborhood watch' something the humans insisted was a good idea. He clicked his talons upon the desk, waiting non too patiently, for Chellick to come out of his hidey-hole where he had been asked not to be disturbed all day.

At last his vigil as rewarded just as his shift ended by the detective all but strutting out of his office. Garrus resisted the urge to thrill in distaste. He pushed the last of his outgoing work into the appropriate pile and rushed off after Chellick.

"Detective," he called out cordially attempting to infuse as much politeness into his tone as he could muster at the moment.

Chellick turned, his face plates shifting into confusion as he spotted Garrus. "Can I help you officer Vakarian?"

Garrus couldn't explain why he had to choke down the urge to snarl at the other male. "I was wondering about the human that came in earlier," he said quietly and noticed that Chellick tensed.

"What about her?"

A slow and false smile spread his mandibles as Garrus began what he considered an excellent game of dancing around a subject. "I was interested about the boy at her side. You don't see too many humans watching Turian children." Except, Garrus knew exactly why she did it and even knew the boy's name but Chellick didn't need to know that.

Chellick relaxed his posture slightly; Garrus appeared to have put him at ease. "Yeah," he rumbled in agreement, " I suppose it is a little strange." Chellick's eyes were watching him a touch too closely. "She found the boy, and needed to know a good shelter to take him to. Needed help contacting whatever family he might have."

'_Liar_,' Garrus thought with some menace, but the aversion to truly answering his question told him a wealth of information he doubted Chellick intended to give him. Whatever this was that Shepherd had come here for, it was likely big and dangerous.

Garrus didn't like the thought at all.

Still, he warbled a non-committal tone and kept his face only vaguely interested. "Oh, for a moment there, I thought she was coming to inform you about your illicit love child."

Chellick erupted in startled laughter, and Garrus clicked his teeth at the response. "Thanks Vakarian, I needed the laugh," he said after a moment.

"Anytime Sir," came the half-muttered reply.

"No, nothing as tawdry as that, she just wanted to do the right thing." The tone was reassuring, the sub-harmonics trilled sincerity.

'_Sincerity_,' Garrus reflected absent mindedly, '_if you can fake that… the rest is easy_.' He was forced to give Chellick some credit, the male was a decent liar. Garrus managed to snare a few more tidbits of information from him before departing for the day. His thoughts whirled around a human and a Turian that both didn't like him right now.

He trudged his way into his apartment, after a long walk that only left him to his already overtaxing thoughts. He was agitated, confused, and worried about what hole Shepherd had managed to dig herself into. Chellick was a Turian that dealt solely with results. He followed the rules, though Garrus was fast getting tired of all the red-tape, but if Chellick stepped one talon-length out of line with Shepherd's safety then Garrus would not be held liable for what he did.

Because, even though he hadn't figured it out yet, she was special. She was special to him and likely to the Citadel. Shepherd was something that didn't come around all that often. Like the animals native to his home world, Garrus couldn't help but see something beautiful in Shepherd. There was a presence about her that put him at ease when she was near, and caused him to worry when she wasn't. IF he didn't know better, he would almost think he was attracted to…

'No, that cannot be,' he thought. He was obviously tired and needed sleep desperately. It would all make sense in the morning. Garrus walked into his bedroom, passing by his new table courtesy of his old friend, it was a tastefully but sparsely furnished room. He unclipped his gun from its holster, and tried to limber up his shoulders. He took off his armor in the unhurried pace of the practiced.

Garrus tried to tell himself that had it been very important, Shepherd would have come to him. However, he knew that wasn't true. She was bound and determined to deal with the galaxy by herself. And damned if he wasn't a little proud of her for it, but he wanted her to know she wasn't alone. He felt as if he needed her to understand that he would do what he could to keep her safe.

He shrugged out of his clothes and proceeded toward his bathroom. He went through his usual personal hygiene routine, and pulled on his sleep ware for the night. He gracelessly flopped into his bed with a deep groan, which turned into a grunt of surprise when his hand hit something solid.

He took one look at the PADD on the bed and let out another groan. He was too damn tired for this, but he forced himself to decode it anyway, not bothering to turn on the lights. What he found was rather expected. A listing of times, locations, and drop points for a known dealer of red sand that Garrus had been trying to pin for a while now. At the bottom of the note, in less than elegant phrasing were a few terse lines from Shepherd.

"Consider us even now C-SEC," it read and he couldn't help but hear her voice at the words, "and thanks. That friend of mine should be better off now."

That was it. And Garrus fought the urge to throw the offending piece of technology across the room in a huff. It was almost as if Shepherd had dismissed him and that left him slightly enraged. His bright blue eyes narrowed in the comfortable darkness of his room and he began to plot exactly how he was going to figure out what she needed Chellick for.


End file.
